Checkmate
by imkerfuffled
Summary: A Scandal in Belgravia barely scratched the surface of all that happened then... because it wasn't really about Sherlock and The Woman. No, behind the scenes was a twisted battle of wits between three of the most brilliant minds in all of Britain. It was a game of chess, and together the Dominatrix and Consulting Criminal backed Mycroft into a corner and put him in checkmate.
1. Wrong Day to Die

The Pool, 30 March 2011:

Jim's phone rang. Of all the times to get a call… he couldn't believe it. For a second, he thought it might be Sebastian telling him to get the hell out of there (like that had ever really been his plan), and he sighed and closed his eyes. Bee Gee's _Stayin' Alive _echoed through the chlorine-filled air.

He allowed himself a few seconds to just stare impassively in front of him, telling Sebastian that there would be hell to pay later.

"D'you mind if I get that?" He said it calmly, with just enough casual exasperation to confuse Sherlock and a dash of irritation thrown in for Sebastian. If that sniper had left his post to _call him _in the middle of his _greatest and final act, _Jim would personally see to it that Sebastian lived to regret it. He'd broken the moment and diffused the metaphorical bomb… Jim knew he could never gain that back. He pulled the phone out of his pocket in exasperation, expecting to shout at his sniper, _"Damn it Sebastian, everything was perfect!" _

But it wasn't Sebastian. The caller id said simply, "The Woman."

That was different.

"Hello?"

"Is this Jim Moriarty?" the dominatrix started by asking, just as she always did when she had information to sell.

"Yes, of _course _it is. What do you want?" he asked in slight annoyance, determined not to let her know just how inconvenient her call was. "_Sorry," _he mouthed to Sherlock (ignoring his pet doctor on the floor).

"With one more phone call and a photograph, I could have the entire Royal Family begging on their knees," Irene said without preamble.

"SAY THAT AGAIN!" he shouted, spinning around. Then he got a hold of himself again, "Say that again, and know that if you're lying to me, I will find you, and I will sssskin you."

Irene continued as if Jim hadn't said a word, "In fact, I've got one of them here now… do you want to say 'hi'? I'm afraid she's a bit tied up at the moment."

"Wait." If Jim was staying in business, he would have to keep Sherlock around. It wouldn't do to be bored later with nothing to entertain him. Lowering his phone for a second, he stepped forward, relishing the quick nervous glance Sherlock flashed at the bomb and his tightened grip on the gun. Jim paused to gaze pensively at the jacket for a moment before looking back at Sherlock. "Sorry," he said in a dead voice, "Wrong. Day. To die."

"Oh, did you get a better offer?" Sherlock said sarcastically.

_I just might have, _Jim thought, glancing back down to his phone before slowly turning and walking away. "You'll be hearing from me, Sherlock." Strolling towards the door, he lifted the phone to his ear again and said to Irene, "So if you have what you say you have, I will make you rich. If you don't, I'll make you into shoes." With one click of his fingers he called off his snipers and vanished through the door.

"Believe me," Irene told him, "In two minutes more, I'll have enough pictures to bring Buckingham Palace to its knees."

"Call me later when you've got them. We'll discuss payment then."

Jim hung up and was still standing there staring at the phone when Sebastian caught up to him. "What was that about?" the irate sniper snapped, "I thought the whole point of this was to kill Sherlock."

"No," murmured Jim, "I was just toying with him there…"

"Was he really going to shoot that bomb?" to Jim's surprise, Sebastian sounded concerned by this.

"Of course he was," Jim answered, "Thank God for the Dominatrix! I wonder what she'd think if she knew she just saved my life." He trailed off before Sebastian could get any more suspicious that Jim wasn't entirely telling the truth.

"So it was Alder who called?" Sebastian asked, perking up a bit when he realized this.

"No, it was the other dominatrix-who do you _think _it was, Seb?" Jim let a splash of annoyance show in his voice, so his loyal sniper would focus on that instead of the forgotten bomb and Sherlock's comment before he pointed the gun at it, "_Probably my answer has crossed yours." _

"What does she have this time?" Sebastian asked, no doubt hoping it was something that couldn't be transferred via Wi-Fi and required her to actually _meet _with them to hand over. _Silly mortal man, _Jim thought, _you can't get your brain out of your pants for long enough to realize she's using us too. _Of course, Jim got plenty out of his occasional deals with Irene as well. It was really more of a symbiotic relationship than a who's-using-who situation.

"Sorry, Seb, they're just photos," said Jim, finally striding outside to where his car was waiting, "They're very _important _photos, though… Get ready to blackmail royalty, Sebastian."


	2. It Won't Save the World

**Author's Note: I meant to post this yesterday, but it was the first day of school, and I had marching band, and forms to fill out and supplies to get... so I forgot. Sorry.**

**Disclaimer: Congradulations, you have found a story written by Sherlock himself!**

**Yeah, I wish. I don't own any of these amazing characters, and unless I somehow get transported into an alternate universe there is no chance of that ever changing.**

**Oh, and I almost forgot: many thanks to Ariane DeVere for her wonderful transcripts! If you haven't read them yet, do that now. **

**Enjoy, and tell me what you think!**

* * *

Irene Adler and Katelyn Norton's house, 2 April 2011:

Kate could tell the moment Irene entered the house that day that something was different. Her friend/lover/employer/what-did-out-matter-anyway seemed distracted, shutting the door absentmindedly while staring at the screen of her phone like it held the answers to all of life's questions.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked worriedly. Irene didn't respond; she only stared intently into her phone with a puzzled crease between her eyes that Kate found irresistible.

The dominatrix sunk onto the couch in a daze without bothering to change out of her work clothes (i.e. very little). She didn't seem to register that Kate was even in the room until she spoke up again. "Is everything all right?"

"Hmmm?" Irene's attention snapped back to reality in an instant (though she took a split second to glance around the room as if wondering "when did I get back here?") "Yes darling, everything's fine. Did you keep dinner waiting? I know I was a bit late coming home."

Kate nodded and left to pop the potatoes into the microwave. She knew the dominatrix very well; Irene would tell her what was on her mind, but only when she was ready. Sure enough, by the time Kate came back with the reheated dinner, Irene-still absorbed in whatever was on her phone-took the plate and said, "You're good with codes and puzzles and such..."

"I do the crosswords in the paper," Kate replied, "If that qualifies as 'good', then sure."

Irene finally glanced up from her screen to look at Kate, "What do you make of this?" she asked, holding the camera phone so Kate could see what had captured The Woman's interest so thoroughly.

From what she could tell, it was simply a picture of a buck naked man who appeared to be tied upside down to a light fixture. "I see a guy strapped to the ceiling," she said.

"No no no no no, look here, at the computer screen," Irene directed her attention to the chopped off view of a laptop, open to what was barely distinguishable as an email, "Can you read that?"

Kate zoomed in with her thumb and squinted, just managing to make out the words "007 Confirmed allocation" and a string of seemingly random numbers and letters, "4C12C45F13E13G60A60B61... What's that supposed to mean?"

"I have no clue," admitted Irene, "It looks like a code, but it's unlike any code I've ever seen… Look, if you sort of turn your head and squint, this bit here…" she pointed to a blurry spot near the top of the computer screen, "…looks like the sender's address. Can you get anything other than the first 'M' out of that?"

Shaking her head, Kate leaned in closer to the picture, "Who did you get this from?"

"Some arrogant sod from the Ministry of Defense," Irene said simply, "I've had him a couple of times now; I may as well milk him for all it's worth. Besides, he _likes _showing off… Not that I don't give him good incentives."

"What does he work with, do you know?" Kate shook her head in mild amusement.

"He specializes in anti-terrorism," said Irene, "and according to him_, _this email is going to save the world."

Kate stared in amazement.

"Of course, he _does _like to show off quite a lot, and he seemed very desperate for me to come back at the time… He could just be making a mountain out of an anthill."

"But…?" Kate could see the mischievous glint in her friend's eye.

"_But _it is in code, and he _is _very important, and it took _a lot _of… persuasion for him to show me this email," Irene grinned, "I think that's the real deal, there." She tapped the phone screen with one long red fingernail, smiling impishly.

"It'll save the world?" Kate said skeptically.

"Oh, maybe not the _world,_" Irene confessed, "but it'll save _something, _that's for sure. Something important. Something—I'd be willing to bet—that's worth a lot of money to the right people."

"You're going to sell it?"

"Of course, darling. Just give me a second while I make another phone call…"

* * *

Moriarty did not seem very happy to be woken at 12:30 at night mere days after his Sherlockian all-nighter. "If this isn't worth it, Adler, you are worse than shoes," he grumbled into the phone. As ever, Irene ignored him and asked cheerily, "Have you sent the photos off yet?"

"Yes," answered Jim, "My client is waiting to use them, though, so you're going to have to wait for your money."

"Obviously," agreed Irene, "Milverton wants to time it so it's nearer to the Royal Wedding. He can drain more money then."

"Of course you know Milverton," Jim muttered.

"I know what he likes." Jim filed that away for later use, in case he ever had need to blackmail his blackmailer. "In fact," Irene continued, "If I weren't coming to you with more than just blackmail material, I may just skip the middleman and go straight to Milverton…" Jim growled silently before he realized where she was going with that sentence.

"I take it you've found something else that's worth more than blackmail," he said, suddenly fully conscious again.

"A fragment of a code," she said in reply, "that will allegedly save the world."

"The entire world?" Jim's interest shriveled up and died. Chances were this was all a hoax. Anyone who would claim to save the world with one line of code had to be lying.

"That's what the MOD man told me, in any case," said Irene, "He's exaggerating of course, but it still seemed worth looking into."

Jim doubted it. This MOD man was just desperate to impress The Woman; he probably would have said anything to get her attention.

"He works in anti-terrorism, you know," Irene continued, probably sensing Jim's reluctance, "He's pretty high up in the governmental food chain. Does that sound like the kind of person who would _need_ to lie to sound impressive?"

The Consulting Criminal considered it for a second... Nope. Not worth it. He wasn't about to pay her for something that may turn out to be useless. "I could always send you the picture now," Irene offered, "And when you decode it, then you can give me what it's worth. How's that?"

Jim had to admit, she was clever. Not only did she read his thoughts exactly, she managed to turn this into a situation where nobody could lose but the MOD man. And Jim always gave credit where credit was due. Besides, if did turn out to be something important Jim could always lie to her and say it wasn't. "Alright," he told her, "I'll see your alleged code, and if looks real I'll call you back."

"Good, I'm sending you the picture right now."

"Goodbye." Jim would look at it later; right now he was going back to sleep.


	3. Squiggles

**Happy Labor Day! And no school for me! :) Anyway, have a chapter for a present. I would wrap it up in a big gift box and stick a bow on it, but I'm not sure how one would do that on the internet... so enjoy! (Oh, yeah, this chapter is set about a week after the last one)**

* * *

Jim Moriarty's house, 10 April 2011:  


Sebastian Moran hated when his boss called him in for a hit, and then acted oblivious when the sniper showed up at his house.

Like now, for instance.

"You called," he growled down at Jim. The Consulting Criminal was ensconced in his big, designer-brand chair with his knees drawn up to his chin, mesmerized by something on his phone. More importantly, he was completely ignoring Sebastian.

"Boss, stop watching the Temple Run guy get mauled by monkeys and tell me what the job is," Sebastian wanted Jim to know how maddening he found this habit of his boss's, and it showed in his voice.

Jim's only response was to mumble something about 'monkeys' and 'funny' and 'should be more gore', but Sebastian wasn't sure Jim was even listening. Sometimes he could have entire conversations without truly being aware of what he was talking about.

"I said get off your phone," Sebastian said slowly, like he was talking to a particularly annoying toddler. He'd wondered on occasion if that was true. "Why did you call me here?"

Without tearing his eyes from his phone, Jim waving a hand in the general direction of the coffee table, where a thin manila folder lay innocently at an angle. Sebastian snatched it up, still grumbling, and flipped through the papers inside. "You want me to kill this guy?" he said. Jim just grunted and wiggled his thumbs over the phone screen. Sebastian glared at him.

"Are you even listening?"

No response.

"Hey, I got a text from Sherlock—" That was the magic word. Jim's head snapped up at the sound faster than Sebastian could speak it, and he wasn't at all pleased when he realized the sniper had tricked him. Sebastian pointed at a mug shot in the folder again, "This is the guy you want me to shoot?"

The Napoleon of Crime nodded angrily... and went right back to staring at his phone. His sniper scrunched his face up in confusion. "What is on there that's so interesting?" he asked.

"Code," said Jim shortly.

"What kind of code?"

"A good one," was the cryptic reply. "See, she's even cropped out the person she got it from, so I can't just torture it out of him..." Glancing at the picture, Sebastian could only see what looked like an upside-down hand in the corner, so he'd have to take Jim's word for it.

"Stupid, clever dominatrix," the criminal genius muttered. He didn't appear to recognize the hypocrisy of that sentence, but Sebastian was really only interested in the last word. "This is from Adler?"

Jim nodded sullenly.

"Can I see?" he nodded again and handed Sebastian the phone, untangling his legs from the chair in the process.

Sebastian knew he had no hope of deciphering it, but he still liked codes. "4C12C... That part is a cipher, obviously," he muttered to himself, "and zero-zero-seven is probably code for something—that's always hard to figure out... What is 'confirmed allocation' supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," Jim grudgingly admitted, "I had six ideas, but none of them worked out."

"So you can't solve this?" Sebastian said in obvious surprise. Jim just glared at him as if daring the sniper to make him say it out loud. He got the hint.

"Wow."

"Shut up."

"When did you get it?"

"A week ago."

Sebastian was speechless.

"Shut up."

"Do you know anything about the person who sent the code?" Sebastian asked, "Other than the first letter of his name, I mean."

Jim looked up at that, unable to mask the surprise on his face. "What do you mean?"

"Well, his name starts with an 'M'," said Sebastian, "In the sender's address: that's an M."

Jim snatched the phone back and nearly pressed his nose into the screen in his efforts to see the letter. "No it isn't!" he shouted, "That's a squiggle!"

"It's an M."

"_That is a squiggle!_" the Consulting Criminal seemed adamantly unwilling to admit that Sebastian had better eyesight than him.

"Well, if you look closely, you can see the pointy bits," he showed Jim what he was talking about.

"I still think it's a squiggle," said Jim, though with less conviction this time.

"You're not the one can shoot a fly from across the room," the sniper reminded him, "I think I know what I'm talking about."

"It's a squiggle."

Sebastian refrained from rolling his eyes at his boss' child-like stubbornness.

"I'm certain it's a squiggle."

"And the second letter could be a G…"

"IT'S A SQUIGGLE!"

"…or a Y."

Jim froze instantly. Slowly, he turned from the phone to look Sebastian in the eyes. "_What did you say?_"

For a second, Sebastian thought he had crossed the Line of Death, and any second now Jim would come flying at him with a flamethrower (or something equally ridiculous), but he knew it would only get worse if he didn't answer, "The second letter could be a Y…"

In a split second, Jim's expression changed from stubborn disbelief to instant understanding. His mouth formed into a perfect 'O', and his eyes widened so much that Sebastian wondered if his eyebrows would disappear above his hairline. "Of course," Jim whispered, appearing to forget Sebastian's existence while he slowly clapped his hands together in wry admiration, "Of _course_. I should have known it was him..."

"Sorry, who?" Sebastian was getting annoyed again.

"If there was one person in this world who could create a truly uncrackable code, it would be him," Jim murmured to himself. His face fell when he saw the look on Sebastian's. "Oh, come on, Seb, _think_ for once!" He shouted, "What do you know about this man? He's big in the government, he works in national security, he's a certifiable genius, and his name starts with M-Y..."

"Um-"

He didn't give Sebastian time to answer before blurting, "It's MYCROFT HOLMES!"

"Oh."

"'Oh'! That's it?" Jim shouted, "This is _brilliant_, Seb! I've been waiting for an opportunity like this for _ages_, and now one drops right into my lap, free of charge! Pure perfection. Oh, that little dominatrix doesn't know what she's stumbled across! Welcome to the big leagues, Irene Adler! Ha!" Jim's face was lit up with glee as leapt from his chair and twirled a (loudly) protesting Sebastian around the room. "Think about it, Seb. It's perfect!" he said again, "I can play both Holmes brothers now-" Without warning, he came to a dead stop mid-twirl (nearly sending the sniper flying into the window), and Sebastian didn't need to see the look on Jim's face to tell he was having another epiphany; he could practically _hear_ the gears whirring in his boss' head.

"Oh, thank you Irene!" the criminal mastermind said in a hushed whisper, "I've got the perfect plan."

Sebastian decided it would be best to point out one obvious flaw before Jim _really _started schemeing. "I thought you couldn't solve the code, boss."

"Shite."

There was a long pause.

"Or... Maybe not. Maybe this is even more perfect than I thought..." Jim had that look in his eye that usually precluded one of his crazy schemes, "We're going to need a bait, and the timing has to be just right... Sebastian, forget about that guy in the folder; I need you to do something...!"


	4. King of Blackmailers

**I know this is a shorter chapter, but I've been kind of busy this week. **

**In case you're wondering who Charles Augustus Milverton is, then you need to read ACD. Seriously, right now. Get out of here, go to Google, and search The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton. Actually, go buy the entire collected works on Amazon for $0.99 (seriously, that's how much I payed for it on my kindle). If you're not going to do that, here's a quick synopsis: he's a really horrible person, and "the king of all blackmailers." He'll sit on a bit of scandelous information for years, waiting to strike at exactly the worst time for his victims, in order to squeeze more money out of them. He's also an incredibly awesome and evil character. I decided to bridge the logical link between him and Moriarty in the 2nd chapter, and realized I had the perfect opportunity to actually include him in the story. Then I thought about what Moran's reaction to him would be, and this chapter was basically inevitable. (If you'll notice, a certain detective's fake fiance also makes an appearance.)**

**And now I'll stop babbling and let you get on with the story.**

* * *

Charles Augustus Milverton's house, 11 April, 2011:

"You have a visitor, sir," Milverton's housemaid said through the door of his study.

"Is it a client?" he responded, leaning back in his shiny leather armchair and silently congratulating himself for buying it.

"I don't know sir," answered the housemaid, a timid young blond named Agatha, "He wouldn't say."

"Did you catch a name?"

"He wouldn't say," she repeated anxiously, "but he did tell me you would regret it if you don't listen to him, sir."

"Dammit," Milverton muttered to himself.

"He's on the veranda, sir."

"What!?" in shock, he swiveled the chair angrily around, and came nose to nose through the window with a very familiar surly sniper. His eyes narrowed.

"You can leave now, Agatha," Milverton ordered in a voice that would allow no disobeying.

Outside, the sniper pointed to the handle of the French doors and mimed unlocking it. Irritably, Milverton stood up and did so, letting the man walk inside, and trying not to cringe as he unslung his rifle case onto Milverton's best rug. The sniper saw this and raised an eyebrow mockingly, but he didn't say a word. Standing there looking menacing was enough.

"Moran," the blackmailer finally broke the tense silence that had defended on the room the moment Sebastian walked in.

"Milverton," the sniper nodded and remained how he was, with his muscled arms folded over his chest and a neutral, vaguely threatening look on his face. Sebastian was not in a very good mood right now (Jim was once again refusing to explain his plan), and visiting his morbidly-obese blackmailer was possibly the last thing he wanted to do just then. The sniper could easily place Milverton on his list of The Top Ten People I Want to Kill (Sherlock being the first, and Jim hovering between second and tenth depending on his mood). Jim, of course, knew how much he hated the fat snake, yet Sebastian was still always assigned to act as the middleman between the two. As a result, Jim was now third on his list. Milverton was second.

"You can tell your boss that I don't have the money yet," Milverton said smoothly, "I'm going to give the royal family a little more time before they hear from me."

"Actually, you will give them however much time Moriarty tells you to," Sebastian corrected, "and Moriarty is telling you to put this project on hold."

"But-"

"Indefinitely."

"That doesn't make any sense—"

"Those are his orders," Sebastian relished the look on Milverton's face when he said that. He was like a little kid who had just been told he couldn't have candy before dinner... A snobbish, rich little kid with hair thinning as fast as his waistline was expanding.

"This is the perfect time to do it!" Milverton protested, "The Royal Family fills up every newspaper in the country—even the Americans have got into it—any dirty little scoop on royalty will be in the headlines for ages. I'll never get a better opportunity!"

"The Boss says to give it up," said Sebastian with a fake shrug of sympathy. Anything that made Charles Augustus Milverton squirm was fine in his book. "If you want to go ahead and tell them about the pictures, you can go ahead, but it'll be on your head to tell Moriarty what you did. I've seen what he does to people who disobey him…Trust me, _you _don't." Sebastian made a point to nudge his rifle with his foot. The blackmailer gulped, letting his slick, manufactured posh mannerism slip for a moment. Sebastian smirked.

"Why would he do that?" Milverton asked in very genuine confusion, "He wants as much money from this as I do, why would he delay it?"

"Don't question the Boss' orders. Just obey them," that was a lesson Sebastian had learned the hard way, "He orders you to give me the pictures as well. He's taking over this case, Milverton. You would do best to forget it ever happened." He decided to leave the implied, _"He doesn't trust you not to double-cross him, you slimy two-faced bastard," _hanging in the air.

Milverton looked very reluctant to walk over to his shiny, expensive wall safe and type in the passcode, making sure to hide it well from Sebastian. Sliding out one of the many files inside, he handed it over to Sebastian, who flipped through its contents (solely to make sure Milverton had given him the right file, of course). As always, the dominatrix had done her worst with her photography skills. She'd even made a point to take two or three that were merely PG-13, so the newspapers could print them.

"I think that will be all," said Sebastian, obviously satisfied by the proceedings. He slipped the file into a pocket on his rifle case, "I would say it's been a pleasure, but… I'd be lying. So long." With that, the sniper slung his case onto his shoulder and slid the door open again.

"Wait—" Milverton stopped him, "Can't you tell me anything about why Moriarty is doing this? I know he wouldn't send you here without a reason." And he doubted it was a purely pornographic one.

Sebastian looked back over his shoulder at Milverton's pleading face. It was obviously killing the blackmailer to have to ask Sebastian this. "Fine," he said, "These photographs are now part of a bigger plan. It doesn't concern you. Goodbye." This time, he really did walk out the door and stroll casually down the lawn (just to annoy Milverton), whistling softly to himself for a job well done.


	5. Sorry :(

Aaaaack! I feel like a horrible person saying this, but it's been far too long since I last updated...

THIS STORY IS ON AN OFFICIAL HIATUS!

Very sorry for all you followers out there. Real life sucks sometimes, doesn't it? Grrrrr

I WILL finish this, I just need to sort out a bunch of stuff first. In the meantime, I may post a few shorter things if any pop into my head and beg to be written, but it'll probably be a while before I can work on this.

Sorry :(


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